


The Magic of Video Editing

by CommonNonsense



Series: Tumblr-Inspired Ficlets [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 14:57:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3854935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommonNonsense/pseuds/CommonNonsense
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John finds a fanblog. More importantly, he finds some video clips of Sherlock on the fanblog. Some really nice video clips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Magic of Video Editing

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this rather lovely gifset: http://wonderlandinmymind.tumblr.com/post/81850088920. And someone commenting about John losing his mind. Because he would.

The thing about being a celebrity was that people paid attention to you.

A lot of attention.

John was okay with it, for the most part. Now that he and Sherlock were back into the full swing of things, it wasn’t terribly uncommon to be in the papers or interviewed for the news. His blog was active again, too, overflowing with comments and questions. It was nice, doing good and being recognized for their work. Sometimes it could be annoying—the press on their doorstep were particularly obnoxious—but for the most part, John had adapted.

Sherlock was mostly ambivalent. If asked about his methods, he would cheerfully inform everyone of how simple it should have been for the police to do and flaunt his own brilliance, but otherwise, he ignored the attention.

John, on the other hand, made an attempt to keep up with what was being said about them, which was how he found himself perusing a “fan blog” one evening as he nursed a cup of tea.

A lot of it was the usual, by the looks of it—effusive praise, clips of interviews and news articles to share, comments on cases and stories, and liberal use of capslock. Sherlock had looked at it over his shoulder, deemed it boring, and gone off to play his violin by the window. John paused in his browsing to look up over his laptop screen and watch for a moment. Sherlock swayed gently to the tune of his music, eyes closed in solemn concentration. With a private smile, John turned back to his laptop.

His eyes alighted on the next blog post and his mouth went dry.

Another thing about being a celebrity is that people sometimes take pictures. Or video. John never really gave thought to it, but apparently, people sometimes edited those videos. And there’s things in there that they like.

The clips repeating on his screen were of Sherlock. In them, Sherlock was only speaking for a few seconds (what he was saying, John could not guess, as the clips had no sound), but someone had cropped down the video to show Sherlock from the neck up and removed the color.

What remained was the single most beautiful display of someone talking that John had ever seen.

In itself, the video had probably not been much, but the editing had skillfully changed that. John was forced to focus on the way Sherlock’s mouth and jaw moved, how his eyelashes fluttered before he spoke. The play of light and shadow was soft but more pronounced, highlighting every curve of Sherlock’s face and drawing John’s eyes down, down the line of Sherlock’s throat …

Sherlock’s shirt was unbuttoned at the top, as always. John was able to see every detail as Sherlock spoke the same half-dozen words over and over: the flexing of the tendon in his neck, the smattering of freckles that trailed down toward his shoulder, the way his throat seemed to elongate as he tilted his head back. It simply begged for lines of kisses. John’s breath caught at the very thought of it. He looked quickly toward the actual Sherlock standing in his living room, but the man still paid him no mind.

When John looked back, his gaze dropped immediately to Sherlock’s mouth on screen. There was no sound, but he could all but hear the deep baritone voice, the crisp enunciation of every word as Sherlock rapidly spoke.

John’s mind immediately took off, imagining Sherlock murmuring John’s name, his eyes drifting closed as John leaned in and pressed a kiss under his jaw. Then continuing down, along Sherlock’s neck and shoulder, peppering the pale skin with kisses before nipping a bruise into the junction there. Sherlock’s fingers finding John’s neck and squeezing, pressing John closer as John found a handful of dark curls and tugged him into a bruising kiss, putting that clever, beautiful mouth to a better use—

“John.”

John started at the sound of his name. He blinked rapidly and looked up at Sherlock, who was staring down at him with an expression of mixed concern and irritation and oh god John was definitely hard.

“What, Sherlock,” he replied, shifting his computer in his laptop and hoping he didn’t sound as breathless as he felt.

“I asked if you wanted Thai for dinner.”

“Yeah, fine. Call it in?”

As Sherlock disappeared into the kitchen to make the call, John licked his lips, hesitated, and bookmarked the blog.


End file.
